3. Cara
three
Cara
Early April
T he email from the team’s PR person, Keeley Fisher, sat staring at me in my inbox. I’d been eagerly awaiting that email from the moment Dad told me about securing the sponsorship. Well, right up until a week ago, anyway. Now I was dreading it.
The email was the only reason I hadn’t cut off all contact with Dad and was still working at Delaware’s Warehouse. If I quit, I’d blow my chance to experience this trip. But I was torn. I couldn’t stand the sight of him right now, and this trip meant that we’d be in close quarters for two weeks.
That’s if I was even still invited. He was probably going to go with his new squeeze.
But I couldn’t think like that. I had to believe he wouldn’t do that.
My trust in him had been shattered, though. He’d promised he would end things with her, but hours after his and Mum’s conversation, the doorbell camera had alerted Mum to a visitor. Dad hadn’t even bothered getting dressed after his shower. He’d opened the door in a towel, and it had been promptly whisked away. They’d left it on the front step, not even bothering to close the door before they were going at it. Mum had the soundtrack recorded as proof, and it turned my stomach knowing she’d had to listen to them.
Instead of breaking it off, Dad was apparently now doing it with Danielle both at work and at home.
I sighed and closed my eyes. They were burning—I’d hardly slept this last week, but my manuscript was flying along. I’d punched out twenty thousand words since I’d caught Dad.
Even through closed eyelids, I could sense the email sitting there, taunting me. It was waiting, still unread, and I needed to get onto it. I knew what it would contain—flight confirmations and the list of personal touches that the team would appreciate—but I still couldn’t bring myself to look.
The sponsorship deal was an unusual setup. Normally sponsors weren’t as hands-on as detailed in the deal we’d inked. It was an anomaly, but Dad had done it for me. He knew how much I loved hockey. He knew I wanted to watch all five games from behind the plexiglass rather than on a television. I wanted to immerse myself in the game for a few wonderous weeks and eek out every piece of inspiration that I could.
I had a job; I still had a few hours here and there with Professor Reid to go with it. But I wanted something different. I dreamed of being an author. I had characters in my head demanding an audience. I wanted to pen stories that left people begging for more. I wanted curvy girls to read about characters they could relate to who find their great loves. I didn’t want their stinking husbands to have cheated on them either.
I had a dozen finished manuscripts that were sweet and fun, but they were missing something. They were missing heat. I wanted steam-up-the-bathroom-mirror level steam. No, I wanted volcanoes-venting levels of steam. I needed to get it out, to burn the proverbial pages with scorching, sublime sex.
I could picture lying on my back, my men kissing and licking every part of my body, worshipping me. My imagination ran wild as my mind’s eye played reel after reel of my guys touching each other too. I wanted to write about my man licking a bead of sweat off his lover’s stubbled throat. I wanted him to reciprocate, moving inside their woman until she was a puddle of sated jellylike limbs. I could feel the stretch and burn and the shiver of ecstasy as the pain morphed into licks of heat as my guys sank into my woman, her feeling every inch of them as they took her to nirvana.
I wanted my readers to fan themselves. I wanted them to need to touch themselves so bad while they were reading my words. I wanted them to dream of it for themselves.
Sex and seduction.
Escapism and orgasms.
I couldn’t describe those scenes from experience, but I had a heck of an imagination. And the Seals gave me inspiration too.
I needed to get close to them like I needed my next breath. But not in a weird, stalkery kind of way. I didn’t want to actually abuse the privilege I’d been given. I wasn’t going to get all weird and throw myself at them. I just wanted to bask in their pro-hockey aura, their confidence, and their talent. If I was lucky, some of it would rub off on me.
Or maybe one of them would actually rub off on me. A girl could certainly dream.
I was trying not to get my hopes up. I’d somehow managed to appeal to Dad’s entrepreneurial spirit and persuaded him that we could learn a lot from the Seals. Dad had a dream of Delaware’s helping to elevate Australian ice hockey to the same dizzying heights as the NHL. He wanted to be the rising tide that lifted the boats—and he wanted to get richer than sin while doing it.
But I might have uninvited myself by standing up for Mum.
I’d deal if I had. The disappointment would crush me. But I wouldn’t back down, not if it meant compromising on my morals—morals that Dad had so hypocritically drilled into me.
The trip was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The Seals were open to us tagging along. As a new team to the NHL, they were still building their fanbase. Having international connections worked well for them. Mum’s best friend’s son was captain of the team. Jacques had put in a good word for us. It had cinched the deal.
I bit the bullet and read the email. The teams were arriving in a month, two weeks after the end of the regular season. The timing wasn’t ideal—a pre-season matchup would have meant fewer players out with injuries—but it was an all-Californian showdown between an old favourite and a new challenger. Every venue had been sold out for months. People were champing at the bit to see the clashes.
The team’s dietary requirements and allergies were already being accommodated, and the players and staff had asked to be booked on a few tours in the various cities they were visiting. Easy stuff, mostly.
The harder part was Ms Fisher’s request for me to provide details of who would be accompanying them. Security passes needed to be arranged and hotel rooms confirmed.
I couldn’t delay any longer. I emailed Dad. I needed to know whether I was still invited. If he wanted Danielle with him instead, I needed to let the dream go.
His response came quicker than I anticipated.
Cara,
I trust you. You know ice hockey better than any of us, and I know that you will represent Delaware’s to the best of your ability. Please travel with the team and enjoy the experience.
As much as I would love to spend the time together, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to leave right now with everything in such a state of flux. I will attend the opening game in Brisbane, but you should find a travel companion to help you out with each location.
Dad
I was gobsmacked. I was still on the invite list!
But who the heck would I take? I could ask Mum, but Dad didn’t want to be there because everything was uncertain. Did that mean he wanted to try to work things out with Mum? I couldn’t pull her away from a chance to repair their marriage.
I could ask Zali or one of her guys. One of them might want to come. But it was unlikely any of them would be able to, given their commitments. So, who?